


just like love will do

by glassmotion



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, FROB as bromance, M/M, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge Era, Warped Tour, road handjob, warning i love bob, warped 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26684830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassmotion/pseuds/glassmotion
Summary: a compilation of snippets of Frank Iero’s life during Warped Tour
Relationships: Frank Iero & Gerard Way
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21
Collections: Warped 2020





	just like love will do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charredlipsandsenseofpride](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charredlipsandsenseofpride/gifts), [mykindofthing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mykindofthing/gifts).



> this is unpretentious work, meant to be a quick, fun read <3 
> 
> thank you to all of my friends at the bookclub for sharing this obsession; thank you especially to my best friends, jamie and clarice. ily.

“I will, and I am not fucking around, I _will_ defenestrate you.”

“Sounds kinky,” Frank snorted, tossing his jeans across the room, letting them land dangerously close to the glasses on top of the minibar, which was old and kinda crappy, but still, a minibar in an _actual hotel room_ , which was great, seriously, he was not complaining. Frank was now officially down to his underwear. “I’m not in the mood, though.”

“I hate you so much,” Bob said, and even though he had just threatened to throw Frank out of the window of the - what was it? - sixteenth floor of the hotel, he didn’t really even flinch. “And you’re always in the mood, Iero. I sure as fuck should know.”

“Okay that was _one time!_ ” Frank yelped, waving around his video game controller. “And you should’ve knocked, dude, what the fuck.”

“It was my room, God dammit!” Bob said in that way that it was almost like he was shouting, but his voice remained in the same flat tone and volume, yet still he was terrifying, but not really. He had a hint of a smile on his face. He tried to hide it, but it was there. Frank knew. He knew Bob. “What the fuck is the point of sleeping with the lead singer if you can’t even get your own room anyway.” 

“Uh, excuse me mister, it was _our room_ , and I resent the fact that you seem to be dismissing my lovely company because of a teeny tiny incident.” Frank took a sip of his beer and put it back on the nightstand. “Anyway, I’m not you, with your god damn polar bear unbothered metabolism, this air conditioning is shit and I can’t fucking kill the enemy with sweaty hands.”

“I swear to God,” Bob shook his head and bit on his lip ring. They finally got back to playing, and it lasted a total half a minute before he broke out in a wheezy giggle and got killed. Frank glared at him from across the king sized bed. 

“You shithead,” he giggled along, even though he wasn’t in on the joke. “What now?”

Bob dropped his controller and wiped tears off his baby blue eyes. He hesitated a second before saying, “ _Teeny tiny,_ alright.”

“You mother _fucker_.”

*

Gerard sat down next to Frank and eyed him suspiciously - like, seriously, not even thirsty, just suspicious. “Y’know, just because it’s a van, it doesn’t mean we’re back in the Bullets tour,” he bitched. 

“Y’know, just because you like to keep your jacket on even though it’s Melting Fuckass degrees, it doesn’t mean I have to,” Frank replied without looking up from his magazine. “And I expected a different reaction from you if you’re gonna sit next to me when I’m half naked.”

“You’re always half-naked, and I’ll show you my reaction in my pants, asshole,” Gerard replied, buckling up like a nun, because that was exactly 49% of his personality. “Bob gave me a dirty look at breakfast, wanna tell me what that was about?”

Frank giggled. “He’s just taking a trip down memory lane,” he put down his magazine, “but so am I, just so you know. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, well.” Gerard sighed, and lolled his head back as the rest of the guys loaded into the van so they could drive on to the venue. “If we fight the rooming…”

“Yeah, I know,” Frank dismissed him, putting on his shirt and praying they would turn on the AC onto like, frostbite temperature. “We’re not like, hostages though, y’know.” 

Gerard nodded, but didn’t say anything. Frank buckled up too because hell, he was responsible and good boyfriend material. Someone shut the door of the van, the engine started, the AC started, and they were on their way. Gerard took Frank’s hand and kissed his knuckles before resting both their hands on his thigh. “I miss you,” he said, his voice small. “I feel like kissing you all the time while I’m onstage.”

“Oh, babe,” Frank mumbled, feeling his heart swelling up real bad because he was a complete sucker for Gerard. “Me too,” he said, turning sideways on his seat, facing the other man and resting his nose on his shoulder. “I hate the label.”

“Don’t say that,” Gerard replied in a flat tone, even though he tightened his grip on Frank’s hand. “It’s just… it’s business. It’s how the world works.”

“Fuck the world,” Frank said, and although his words were harsh, he kissed Gerard’s neck under his collar. “Fuck’em.”

*

Frank jogged the last few feet to their bus and climbed up the steps quickly. Mikey was spread out on the couch, typing onto his phone-sidekick-whatever he called it nowadays. “Hey Mikeyway,” Frank said, landing on the bench across from him. “Whatchu up to.”

Mikey shrugged - well, he slightly moved his bony shoulder, which was a shrug in Mikeyway language. “Nothing.” He eyed Frank for a millisecond over his phone before going back to typing. “You look like death.”

“Yeah, well,” Frank sighed, and started picking on the crumbs scattered on the table. “Brian said we’ll get to shower before.”

“Nah.”

There was a blob of strawberry jam on the table. Frank wondered if anyone had had donuts in there. Damn, he could use a donut. “Are there donuts?” Mikey pointed with a finger towards the cabinet, the other hand still typing. Frank got up and found a crumpled Used bag - they had _bags?_ \- with an even more crumpled box of donuts inside. There was only a half-eaten bagel in it. He tossed the bag back inside the cabinet. “Gross.” He sat back on the bench. “Everyone in this tour is so fucking gross, man.”

Mikey snickered. “Dude.”

“Shut up.” Frank lined the crumbs neatly, making a way from a magazine to an empty coffee cup. “Where is he, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Mikey said, shutting his phone. He looked at Frank. “Wanna play DnD?”

“No,” Frank said, and got up. “And you’re full of shit.” Mikey always knew everything. And he never put his phone away unless there was a _situation_ at hand. Frank hated being a situation. He felt upset and walked to the back of the bus. 

Bob was lying on his bunk. Frank stopped and stared. Bob stared back. They both did a lot of staring for a moment, and then Bob scooted over to make some room and handed Frank one of his earbuds. 

** 

Frank chewed on his nails. He was sitting indian-style on the floor, his guitar on his lap, watching as Ray wrote stuff down. 

“I think I got it,” Ray finally said, handing Frank one sheet of paper and keeping another one to himself. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

They both played their guitars for a while. When they finished, Ray had a huge smile on his face. 

“You’re a fucking genius,” Frank said. 

“I’m gonna go get him,” Ray replied as he got up. “And you too, y’know.” He looked at Frank with those bright, dark, genius eyes. “You’re fucking genius, Frankie.”

As Ray left to go fetch Gerard, Frank sat there, staring at the sheet of what they had temporarily named “ _G’s Incessant Humming_ ”. He realized, for the upteenth time, he was in his favorite band, and smiled to himself, feeling like the luckiest motherfucker on Earth.

**

Frank held his head up, his mouth hanging half-open, smoke coming out of it without shape, even though his jaw kept moving. Bob pressed his lips together really, really hard. “Fuck this,” Frank said, flicking away the cig. Bob finally bursted into laughter. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Well _I_ don’t know how _you_ managed to be a fucking weedhead for years and not learn how to blow out a smoke ring!” Bob actually shouted, like Frank had disappointed him. 

“I’ll show you what I’m good at blowing, asshole,” he said, taking a sip of his beer. He squinted, looking around the huge parking lot, trying to catch a glimpse of Gerard between buses. “Give me another cigarette.”

“The one you tossed wasn’t even half finished,” Bob protested, but promptly passed him his pack. 

“That was a statement,” Frank said, lighting a new one up, “and I’m brooding now. Let a man brood.”

“Amen to that,” Bob toasted him with his own bottle, and they smoked in silence for about eight seconds before Bob started laughing again. 

“What I’m good at blowing?” Frank asked, and Bob nodded, wheezing. “God, you’re slow.”

Bob rested his elbow against a knee and put his forehead on the heel of his hand. “Ah, Frankie.”

This time they did fall silent, although it wasn’t really brooding, giving they were kinda gigglish, either from their twelve year old humour or just the beers they’d had, but they were actually silent for a couple minutes until Gerard showed up. Bob was the first to see him. “Holy shit,” he said. 

Frank looked up. “Holy shit!”

“Hey,” Gerard greeted them, getting on his knees on the asphalt. “Look at what I got you.”

Two of the oldest, ugliest chihuahuas on Earth were handed to Frank and Bob, who welcomed them with huge grins and excited yelps. “They’re borrowed,” Gerard clarified when they asked, “they’re from this girl Pete knows. I said I’ll get them back in a few.”

Eventually, Frank handed Bob his own pup, which was probably the best thing Frank had ever given Bob in all of those years they’d known each other, so he could get on his knees and reach out to bring Gerard into a kiss. “Thank you,” he mumbled against his lips, “I love it.”

“You taste like beer,” Gerard said, but didn’t pull away. Frank started to apologize, but Gerard just kissed him shut. “Love you, Frankie,” he said after a moment.

“Love you, puppies,” Bob echoed in the background. 

**

“I hope I’m not signing onto anything disgraceful,” Frank said, handing Brian back his pen and folder. 

“Famous last words,” Brian said, putting the documents into an envelope. “You should read what you sign, Frank.”

“I have you to do that for me,” Frank teased, and Brian punched him on the arm. “Ow! Dude.”

“Sue me,” Brian said, getting up. “Oh wait. You don’t read lawsuits.”

“Wait, was that a lawsuit? Brian? Brian! Get -- Bob, tell Brian to get back here!”

Bob didn’t stop Brian - _Traitor_ , Frank thought. Instead, he actually waved at him from the bus door before turning around and saying to Frank, “I can promise twenty mintues. More, if I manage, but twenty guaranteed.”

“Oh shit,” Frank got up quickly, smoothing down his hair. “What will you tell them?”

“I’ll say you ate dairy,” he said and stepped away, making room for Gerard to come inside. “Safeword is ‘ _wipe_ ’,” Bob grinned and walked away from the bus. 

“I love you!!!” Frank shouted, and then looked at Gerard. “Hi.”

“I’d get jealous, but I can’t blame you,” he said, a small smile on his face. He looked clean. His hair was soft. “Hi.”

Frank reached out a hand for Gerard to hold and led them to the back of the bus, to the bunk area. He was stopped before they got there. “What?”

“Nothing, just…” Gerard leaned back against the toilette door, his legs slightly apart, and brought Frank closer. “Just stay here with me a minute.” 

There was a slight frown weighing on Frank’s forehead, but he buried his face into Gerard’s neck anyway. They stood like that, just holding each other, breathing each other in, feeling their senses calm and the noise fade away. 

“I feel like I’m in the dark without you,” Gerard said suddenly, and he sounded solemn, his voice small, like a confession. “We’re always in the dark, but when you’re with me, I feel like nothing can harm me. It’s just the night,” he sighed, “but in a nice way.” He sniffed, and Frank could tell he was crying. He tightened his grip on his waist. “What I feel, Frankie - what I feel for you. Sometimes I feel like my heart is going to explode, and it scares me. I’m a coward, and I’m scared. And I fuck up all the time.”

“Shh, hey.” Frank cupped his face. He knew Gerard just got like that sometimes. He got in his head a lot, and he felt scared and pushed Frank away, but sometimes he just pulled him really close. “Hey. I’m not going anywhere.”

Gerard lined the tip of his nose, pointy and red, to Frank’s, and smiled a tiny smile. “Take me with you, if you do,” he asked, “if you can.”

“Anytime you want, baby,” he kissed his words into Gerard’s lips, “I promise.” He felt dizzy. He felt like his feet were off the ground, like he was being lifted up but also pulled down in a way he couldn’t control, in a way only love would do. 

They held each other close, their bodies pressed together and almost melding into one another, completely gone into their kiss. Gerard had one arm around Frank’s waist, pulling him to the tip of his feet, and the other hand holding the back of his neck, gently but firmly, and they kissed for what felt like ages. His tears dried off and made room for soft moans, the air around them shifting from the heaviness of their emotion to the muffled heat of lust. 

Need and devotion took hold of Gerard, and he slid down to his knees, leaving Frank to balance himself with his forearms against the door. He worked fast on the pink belt and the buttons, and it wasn’t long before he had Frank hot and heavy on his tongue. He sucked him long and calm for a few moments, before pulling off with a wet noise and resting his head back against the door. “Look at me, Frankie,” he whispered, and Frank complied with half-lidded eyes. “You do it.” Gerard kept looking up and opened his mouth slightly, inviting Frank in. 

And well, if anyone on Earth would always do whatever Gerard Way asked for, that was Frank, and if the request involved fucking his mouth - lovingly, I mean, he did love him very much - how the fuck could he say no? Frank held the base of his shaft and guided his cock into Gerard’s mouth, his glance flicking quickly between the man’s plump lips and his wide green eyes, and he was pretty sure he was, indeed, no doubt about it, the luckiest motherfucker on _Earth._

“I’m gonna come in your mouth,” he warned, but didn’t stop moving his hips, and Gerard hummed in agreement. Frank could hear the exact words he would say later that night, low against his ear so nobody else would listen - “ _I loved sucking you off, Frankie, feeling every inch of your cock in my mouth, your smooth skin, baby, every ridge, your smell and your taste, fucking me good, Frankie, you get me so hard…”_

“Shut up,” Frank said, although Gerard was silent with a mouthful of cock, but the answer came when Gerard squeezed his ass hard and he came like a trainwreck, and Frank’s moans were cut off by Bob’s loud shouting of “ _WIPE!!!”_ coming from the front. 

He wasn’t exactly sure what happened - his vision went blank and he lost a few seconds when he orgasmed - but next thing Frank knew he was being shoved into Bob’s bunk by Gerard, who climbed on top of him and shut the curtains. He lost no time - they could hear Ray’s high pitched voice in the kitchen area - and kissed Frank hard, dry humping him like his life depended on it. 

Frank got hold of himself enough to shove his hand down Gerard’s pants, pull it back out, lick his palm and shove it back in. His left hand he used to grab Gerard’s ass, his digits playing down his crack as his right hand pumped his cock fast. “Come for me, baby,” he whispered, and Gerard bit down on Frank’s lip ring as he came hard, like the 51% slut that he was, but panting silently, because he was still 49% nun. 

Frank wiped his hands on Gerard’s shirt - no wonder why he was always filthy - and they lay there, catching their breaths, blissfully listening to their bandmates banter on the kitchen area - Ray leading a discussion on DK, Mikey pitching in to talk about graphics, and Bob… wait, Bob wasn’t there?

The curtains were pulled in a single, quick motion, and light flooded into the bunk, followed by a gutural, raging shout of “Oh come on!”, the _why on my bunk???????_ implied.

Gerard started fumbling for his pants, but Frank just giggled, and shouted back, “what’s teeny tiny now, asshole?”


End file.
